


Dinner Party

by Ataleofterror



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Tension, Gen, Intimacy, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28983393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ataleofterror/pseuds/Ataleofterror
Summary: Billy Gibson is having his friends over to meet his new boyfriend Cornelius Hickey. Billy is crazy about him, but he's not sure what his friends will think. Especially Tozer...
Relationships: William Gibson/Cornelius Hickey
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Chardonnay

**Author's Note:**

> Still obsessed with Billy and Hickey. Also Tozer being a big rugby lad just seems so right.

“I asked you to get Pinot Grigio…” Billy says as he sees Hickey produce two bottles of Chardonnay and two bottles of Merlot.   
His cheeks are red from the heat of the kitchen. 

“I thought you’d like the names,” Hickey said. “They’re all basically the same anyway, aren’t they?”

Billy suppresses his annoyance. He needs to focus on his roast chicken. Chardonnay will do, he supposes, but a Pinot Grig would have been much better. He will not let Hickey’s ignorance about wine ruin his dinner party.

“Erebus and Terror, see? I thought you’d like that, because you’re into all that Arctic stuff?” Hickey says, becoming increasingly uncertain.

Billy smiles sweetly and manages to overcome his momentary annoyance. God, but the man could be charming. He wipes his hands on his apron and gives Hickey a kiss on the cheek, his lips catching on his stubble. “Aren’t you sweet,” he says, giving him a quick squeeze on the bum. “Now go and put the wine glasses out,” he orders.

“Why are you getting so stressed? Haven’t you known these people for years? Or are you afraid they won’t like me?” Hickey says, mock-serious, but a little seriousness creeping through nonetheless. He’s never met a boyfriend’s friends before. Never been in a relationship, really. At least not one where they had dinner parties with each other’s friends.

“I’m sure they’ll love you,” Billy says with a smile, and hopes it’s true. 

Hickey’s not like any man he’s been with before. He was a hard one to pin down. They slept together on their first date, which Billy normally never does. Hickey didn’t stay the night. He didn’t for a long time after that. The first few weeks of their relationship involved a lot of the best sex Billy had ever had followed by unbearable days of radio silence and elusive texts. It was months until Billy even knew where Hickey lived (a small one-bed flat in an ungentrified part of east London). 

His apartment was spartan, bar a heaving shelf of books, a bench press and several weights. He slept on a mattress on the floor. Billy thought he had just moved in and was surprised when he said he had lived there for over 5 years. His fridge was filled with eggs and his cupboards with instant noodles and not much else. He was, in other words, crying out for someone to look after him. 

“Just watch out for Tozer,” Billy says. “He’s a good guy, but he’s protective and it shows.” Hickey has seen photos of this Tozer on Billy’s Instagram and taken an instant dislike to him. He’s tall, straight, muscular in a way you can tell comes from the gym and protein shakes, and as alpha male as they come, which probably means he likes to get pegged by his girlfriend after a few drinks at the weekend. Hickey has met plenty of guys like him and disliked each and every one. 

“Noted,” Hickey replies. “Can I help with anything?” he says, coming into the narrow galley kitchen. “You can help by staying out of the way,” Billy tries to say jokingly, but comes out with just a hint of irritation. 

“Why don’t you go and get changed?”

“Changed, what’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?” Hickey is wearing a maroon t-shirt, grey skinny jeans and converse.

“Didn’t you bring any other clothes?” 

“Only a change of underwear,” (Billy has offered him a drawer for underwear and socks, and other things he might need after staying the night, but Hickey declined. This was still a sore spot).

“It’s fine…. for an evening in the pub. But I asked the others guys to go smart casual… Go into my wardrobe and grab a shirt. The trousers’ll be too long, yours will have to do. Grab a suit jacket and roll up the sleeves.”

“You care too much about what other people think,” Hickey thinks to himself as he goes into Billy’s bedroom, where he has been spending an increasing amount of time lately. He does as he’s told because he wants to please Billy, who seems to be having a bit of a nervous breakdown over a roast chicken. He knows Billy is worried what his friends will think of him, and consequently, of Billy, for choosing him. He rakes through Billy’s shirts, all identical in brand and style but different colours and chooses a simple navy button-down and matching jacket. The jacket is too long so he rolls the sleeves up, feeling like a child playing fancy dress.

“Don’t you look charming,” Billy says as he comes back into the room. “Will you keep an eye on the potatoes, I’m just going to run into the shower.”

“Sure. I think I can manage that. Are you sure you don’t want me to join you though?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“Oh god, don’t tempt me. I’ll just have to keep myself together until later,” he smiles and heads off.

Billy is gone for about five minutes when the doorbell rings.

“Will you get that?! I’m not ready,” he shouts from the shower.

“Sure,” Hickey says, begrudgingly. “For God’s sake, what have I gotten myself into now? Hosting a dinner party like some CEO’s wife?” he thinks to himself. Just because he likes Billy, which he does, A LOT, doesn’t mean that he and Billy’s friends have to be best mates. Lord knows he has never inflicted any of his (much smaller) group of friends on him.

“Oh, hi!” A tallish man with messy black hair exclaims in surprise as he opens the door.

“You must be Cornelius!” Hickey cringes as he hears the name. “Hickey, you can call me Hickey,” he says, and shakes the man’s hand.

“And you can call me Harry. Shall we step inside?” Hickey realises he has been blocking the doorway, refusing the other man entry.

“Yes, of course, sorry. Billy’s just in the shower,” he says, willing him to hurry the fuck up with every passing second. He was already somewhat dreading this evening and playing hostess wasn’t part of his plans. 

“It’s great to meet you at last, Billy’s told us a lot about you,” Harry says, smiling as he sits down on the couch opposite Hickey. 

Hickey sincerely hopes Billy hasn’t regaled all of his friends with the intimate details of their sex life. “All good, I hope,” he says and laughs nervously, sweeping his hair back over his head. Where the fuck is Billy?

Billy eventually wafts in in a purple shirt and grey blazer that look like they have been cut just for him on Savile Row. Hickey feels proud to be with a man who wears his clothes so well. 

“Harry!” he exclaims, hugging the man and kissing him on the cheek. “Or should I say, Dr. Goodsir?”

“Harry is fine, thanks Billy.”

The doorbell rings again, “That must be the others.”

Hickey recognises the infamous Tozer from his social media stalking. He’s not sure who the other man is. It’s hard to imagine them all as spotty young eighteen-year-olds.  
Tozer spots Hickey over Billy’s shoulder as he opens the door and shouts, “The famous Hickey! I was beginning to think you were a figment of our Billy’s imagination,” he says as bounds over and thrusts his hand out for Hickey to shake. He crushes Hickey’s hand in an obvious attempt at a power play. 

“Well, here I am, in the flesh,” he replies flatly.

“Oh, leave the man alone Toze, you daft prick,” says the other man. He has slicked-back black hair and kind blue eyes. “Tom,” he says, shaking Hickey’s hand gently, looking him in the eye.

“Shall we sit?” Billy says, ever the diligent host, making sure everything goes along swimmingly. 

“Let’s,” says Harry, smiling at Hickey.

“You can sit next to me,” Tozer says to Hickey. “So we can get to know each other better.”

“Now, now, play nice Sol,” Billy says as he pours them all a glass of Hickey’s Chardonnay.

“Chardonnay Billy, have we gone back to the late 90s?” Tom says sarcastically.

Tozer turns his nose up at the wine, “Where did you get this piss Billy, the bloody pound shop? Can’t drink that,” he says, shoving the glass away from him like a child done with its dinner.

Billy casts a worried look at Cornelius, willing him not to say anything.

“I bought it,” he says. “I thought Billy would like it because of the names, you know, the way he’s obsessed with the Arctic and all that,” he says, looking down at the table. “I don’t know much about wine.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea. Anyway, it’s the thought that counts, right lads?” says kind Harry, trying to salvage the situation, taking a sip. “Anyway, it’s not that bad. A pint of lager’s more your style anyway, isn’t Toze? You wouldn’t know a fine wine if it hit you in the face.”

“How did you two meet?” Tom says, moving the conversation away from troubled waters with the social deftness only a public-school boy could manage.

Hickey thinks about that first night. A quick drink in the pub. A walk home that ended with them wanking each other off in a lane about two minutes away from the pub. 

“Oh, online, like everyone else,” Billy quickly says, and Hickey notices him blush slightly, the memory of their fevered kisses obviously coming back to him, how embarrassingly fast Billy came that first night. 

Hickey had barely touched him before Billy breathed a hot wet breath into his neck and came all over his hand. Billy, normally so fastidious in his appearance, walked home with come on his trousers and shirt. “Oh God,” he said, embarrassed, “I haven’t come that quickly since I was teenager… I just… you’re so fucking hot,” he said and kissed Hickey full on the mouth. “Let’s go back to mine,” Billy said, “so I can return the favour.” 

Hickey chooses not to remember at this moment sneaking out while Billy was still asleep later that night. Or the many times afterwards he did that very same thing.

“It’s impossible to meet anyone any other way these days, isn’t it?” Tom replies. “What about the straights, Toze?” he asks.

“You know me man, I’ve been with Selena for years now, I wouldn’t know.” Hickey catches Tom and Billy share a glance. Billy has told Hickey that Tozer has cheated on his girlfriend many, many times.


	2. Bit of Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get tense as the alcohol flows and personalities clash.

Talk turns to their university days. Harry takes sympathy on Hickey; he himself knows there’s nothing more boring than listening to stories about people you don’t know. 

“Where did you go to university, Hickey?” he asks.

“I didn’t.” 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he says, smiling, as Harry looks embarrassed.

“That’s not true, Cornelius,” Billy interjects. “You went to night class.”

“Not really the same thing though, is it? No halls, student bars or any of the fun bits.”

“You still got your degree,” Billy says. Hickey is not sure if he’s sharing this out of pride or if he wants his friends to know he’s not dating someone thick.

“That’s great, well done,” Harry says.

“What did you study?” Tom asks.

“Social care,” Hickey replies. 

“And what does that entail?” he follows up.

“Oh, working with kids in trouble, that kind of thing.”

“In trouble with the law you mean?” Tom asks. He’s a solicitor, and a professional curiosity takes over him. Not that he’d represent any of Hickey’s ‘clientele,’ bar the odd pro bono bit of work.

“Yeah, I suppose what people might call ‘troubled youth,’” he says in inverted commas.

“Plenty of those around your neck of the woods, eh Toze?” Tom teases.

“Fuck off, my dad’s a surgeon, you southern cunt!” Tozer retorts, laughing. “Us northern boys have to look out for one another eh?” he says, nudging Hickey in the ribs. Hickey smiles awkwardly. “Scousers get no respect.”

Harry casts an apologetic look Hickey’s way.

“God, do you remember that first night out in uni?” Tozer keeps bringing the conversation back to university. 

Hickey imagines those were the best days of his life. He must have been coming to the end of his rugby career; if he was the same age as Billy, he would have been at least in his early 30s. Hickey thought he detected signs of Tozer turning to fat, a slight thickness around the jaw and waist, in a way that would likely take over once he stopped doing so much physical exercise and turned to drink.

“Right, who wants mains?” Billy says, changing the subject. He doesn’t really want a story of his drunken teenage self puking on the dance floor brought up in front of his new(ish) boyfriend. 

“Just chicken and veg for me, I’m doing keto,” Tom says. 

“Are you allowed to drink wine on keto?” Billy asks mockingly.

“Shhh,” Tom says, already tipsy. 

“You know keto was invented for epileptic children. It’s not a weight loss aid for image-obsessed City boys,” Harry interjects.

“Yes, yes thank you doctor,” Tom replies. 

“Thigh or breast?” Billy asks from the kitchen.

“Didn’t think you fellas were into that!” Tozer shouts. Hickey winces.

“As much a wit as ever,” Harry says, and Hickey gets the impression he doesn’t like the man at all. That their friendship is entirely down to their proximity, that they were forced to spend time together in their formative years. This instantly makes Hickey like Harry more.

“And what was that guy called?” Tozer ponders aloud.

“Don’t,” Tom says, laughing.

“What?” Billy shouts from the kitchen. 

“What was his name, Dave or Daniel?”

“Don’t,” Tom says again, more insistently. 

“Who?” Hickey asks. Billy still hasn’t come back.

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Tozer says with a smug look on his face, as if to say, “I know him better than you. I always will.”

“Just a university fling,” Harry says dismissively, glaring at Tozer.

“Oh I’d say it was more than that,” Tom says, eyes glinting. Not so kind now.

“Well, it was all a long time ago,” Harry says.

Billy enters bearing plates in both hands from the kitchen.

“What were you saying?”

“Have you told your boyfriend about Daniel?” Hickey notices that Tozer never refers to him by name.

Harry shakes his head. Tom glares at Tozer devilishly. 

“I don’t really want to talk about my ex from years ago, if that’s all right with you,” Billy says, carelessly laying down the dishes, the painstakingly placed ingredients sliding all over the plates. He hurries back to the kitchen. Hickey gets up and follows him. Billy is leaning on the sink with his head down.

“Are you all right Billy?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Just leave it.”

“All right, all right.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter. It’s just banter. Sorry, I don’t mean to be curt it’s just… it’s just a stupid story I don’t really want to get into now.”

“Fine by me.”

“Let’s just get back out there.” Hickey helps Billy bring out the plates and sets them down.

“I’m just going to go powder my nose,” Billy says. 

“I’m going out for a smoke,” Hickey says, heading to the balcony, lest he be left alone with the three wise men.

“Well, what do we think boys?” Tozer says.

“I think you could lay off the protective older brother act. Billy can look after himself,” Harry says.

“Only last time, he didn’t, did he?” Tozer says. Tom casts his eyes down.

“Billy’s going to do what he wants at the end of the day. The guy seems ok. If Billy wants his bit of rough let him at it. It’s obviously not going anywhere,” says Tom.

“I used to hang around with guys like him in Liverpool. I wouldn’t want any of them anywhere near Billy.”

“Down on the council estate was it Toze?” Harry says sarcastically. 

“Look, all I’m saying is, Billy needs someone to look out for him. I don’t know why you guys are acting like this is all fucking happy days, a picnic in the park.”

“God Toze, being a little over-dramatic aren’t you?” Harry interjects.

“I’d rather be over-dramatic than not notice something.”

“Shh, he’s coming back,” Tom says.

Billy returns to the room, game face back on.

“Well, what do we all think?” he asks.

“Seems nice,” Harry offers.

“Yeah, good bloke,” Tom says.

“Toze?” Billy asks, as he hasn’t offered an opinion yet.

“I’ll reserve judgement for now.”

“Oh for God’s sake Sol. Just get over yourself will you? You’re making everyone tense.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to,” Billy retorts.

Hickey lingers longer than strictly necessary over his cigarette, smoking it right down to the filter. He returns from the balcony.   
“I thought you were giving up,” Billy says accusatorily.

“I am,” Hickey says, and sits back down. 

He detects a frostier atmosphere than before. He feels certain they’ve been talking about him.


	3. Never have I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions come to a head. Everyone gets drunk.

As they eat their meal, talk turns once again to people Hickey doesn’t know, who got married, who’s pregnant, who’s getting divorced.

“Eh Billy, what’s for dessert?” Tozer asks through a mouthful of food.

“Panna cotta for the adults,” Billy says, “and jelly and ice cream for you.”

“What about a palate cleanser?” Tom says, producing a bottle of Grey Goose from his Guardian tote bag. “It’s got hardly any calories!”

“Tommy boy coming through again!” Tozer shouts, thumping the table, making Hickey jump.

“Oh God,” Billy says as he puts his head in his hands and laughs. “You’re terrible Tom!”

“This is not strictly medically advisable!” Harry says sardonically.

“A little digestif never did anyone any harm!” Tom says, arching his eyebrow.

“ONE palate cleanser,” Billy says. “I don’t want you all to be too drunk to appreciate my dessert.”

Hickey helps Billy clear the dinner plates and fetch the desserts. “Well?” Billy asks, “having a good time?” 

“Sure,” Hickey replies, forcing a smile. 

“Good,” Billy replies.

When they get back to the table, Tom has taken the novelty shot glasses off Billy’s shelf and filled them all to the brim. 

“Chin chin,” Tom says as they all return to their seats. They grimace as they do the shots, although Tozer tries to cover it up, as if he were drinking water. Hickey hates spirits, shots even more, but he’s on his best, most compliant behaviour tonight. Usually he would be out the door the second the vodka came out, but he feels himself bending his stringent rules.

“I know, why don’t we all do a little game to get to know one another better?” Tozer suggests.

“Like what, 20 questions?” Harry asks, although he knows where this is going.

“More like 1 question…” Tom says as he fills up the glasses again.

“Oh for God’s sake, are we 14?!” Harry says.

“You don’t have to... if you don’t want to,” Billy mouths at Hickey. He knows he hates strong drinks.

“It’s fine,” Hickey mouths back.

“Who’s going to start?” Tom asks.

“I will!” Tozer says. “Never have I ever… slept with a bloke.”

Tom, Harry and Billy roll their eyes. All of them bar Tozer take a shot.

“You next,” he says to Hickey. Hickey tries to think of the most generic question possible. “Never have I… spent the night in hospital.” 

He notices all three of the other guys flash their eyes in Billy’s direction. Billy does not drink. “Lucky bunch of lads, aren’t we?” he says non-committally.

“Never have I… slept with a woman!” Harry says, evidently tipsy, unusual for him. Everyone stares at Tozer. He does his shot dutifully. Hickey is surprised when everyone at the table takes a shot bar him and Harry. He glances at Billy who shrugs in mock surprise at him. 

“Never have I… smoked weed,” Tom asks. Everyone drinks.

“Never have I… cheated on someone…” Hickey sneaks a glance in Billy’s direction. He’s pleased to see Billy standing up for himself, even if he is just emboldened by the alcohol. Tom drinks, mock shame on his face. 

“Go on Tozer,” he says, “the game’s no fun if you’re not being honest, you’re the one that wanted to play. Fair is fair,” he says, his blue eyes glinting with pleasure as the other man squirms. 

Hickey can’t get a hold on this group’s dynamic at all. 

“Don’t know what you’re on about mate.”

“Oh come off it man, we were all there,” Tom says. 

“It’s true,” Harry says. “We all saw.”

“Fuck you guys,” Tozer says, taking his shot rather aggressively. 

The rounds continue in this somewhat probing, but mostly good-natured manner. Everyone is rather drunk at this point. Even Hickey is feeling it, who normally is extremely wary of the effects of booze.

“Never have I ever… been in jail,” Tozer says quietly. The room quietens. Everyone looks down at the table, bar Tozer who is looking directly at Hickey.

“Don’t know why you’re looking at me mate,” Hickey says. 

“I’m not.”

“You kind of are though.” 

“It’s just, I know everything about these guys, and not much about you, is all.”

“Does getting thrown in a cell in Ibiza count?” Tom asks, and nervously takes a shot. No one replies.

“No, I haven’t been to prison. Dy’a want my social number too so you can have him check me out?” he says, pointing at Tom, who at that moment wishes he could sink into the ground into the flat below.

“Guys, come on,” Harry says. 

“Maybe I will,” Tozer says, not breaking eye contact.

“What, so, because I don’t wear a suit and tie to work and I’ve got tattoos I must have been to prison, is that it? That’s your logic?”

Tozer says nothing. Hickey looks at Billy. He also says nothing.

“Fuck this,” Hickey says, shaking head and grabbing his jacket, making for the door.

“Cornelius, wait!” Billy jumps up out of his chair. “It was just a joke, just—

“Banter, yeah, I get it. Only I don’t find it all that amusing.”

“Just wait. We’ll do something else…” Billy pleads. He is slightly swaying.

“I’ve been dealing with jumped-up pricks like him all my life and I’m not going to start putting up with their bullshit now, Billy. Call me tomorrow when you’re sober.” 

And with that, he leaves with a quiet click of the door.

“Oh dear,” Tom says sloppily as Billy returns to the room and sinks down into the couch. 

“Ugh. Why did you have to say that Tozer?”

“I’m just trying to get to know the guy.”

“You were interrogating him.”

“How much do you really know about him anyway?”

“More than you!” Billy shouts.

“Fucking someone isn’t the same as knowing them,” Tozer says.

“Shut up Tozer will you, for Christ’s sake. You’re giving me a headache,” Tom says. 

“I’d says that’s probably more likely the vodka,” Harry says. “Let’s just forget about it and try to have a nice time shall we? It’ll all be fine in the morning. We’ve all just had a bit too much to drink.”

“Yeah,” Tom agrees. “I’m sure the poor bloke was sick to death of your boring uni stories anyway. I personally am sick of hearing about all the girls you allegedly shagged.”  
Someone puts YouTube on the TV and they are all quietly falling into a drunken stupor. 

Harry leaves, muttering about being on call the next day. Billy makes them all an espresso martini to revive them.

“What was that all about, really?” he gestures vaguely.

“What?” Tozer says, mock innocent.

“You know what. Interrogating him. Pushing him.”

Tozer is silent for a minute and looks at Billy intensely.

“Yeah, ok, I wanted to push him. I want to push him over the fucking edge to see what he does.” 

“What’s the supposed to mean?”

Tozer says, matter-of-factly, “If he hits me, he’ll definitely hit you.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Tom says.

“What, because you’re so much more of a man than me, is that it?” Billy slurs, spilling some of his drink on his shirt.

“I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“Well can you please find some other way other than driving away the first decent guy I’ve been with in years?” 

“What kind of name is that anyway, Cornelius?” Tom says, “He belongs in a barrister’s chambers with a name like that.” 

They ignore him.

Tozer turns to Billy and grabs his shoulders in a sudden earnestness.

“You would tell me, wouldn’t you? If anything was wrong?”

“Of course,” Billy says, shrugging him off.

“Only last time…”

“That was a long time ago. And he isn’t like that.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do! Now please just fuck off and leave me alone. You’ve already ruined the night. And probably my relationship.”

“Billy.”

“I mean it! Get out! Fuck off!”

“Come on,” Tom says, dragging Tozer out the door, realising the seriousness of the situation by the anger in Billy’s voice. Billy, always so gentle.


End file.
